After Darkness Falls
by Bryher
Summary: One of Tristan's conversations with Lena. ONESHOT


Title: After Darkness Falls.

Summary; One of Tristan's conversations with Lena.

Rating; T

Author's Notes; "Hint hint", homeric? Plot bunny came and sat on my head after I read that. Et voila.

* * *

I wiped down the tables, humming to myself. I liked the tavern like this- devoid of customers with only the tavern cat, Fergus, for company. Said cat lay sprawled, legs in the air at the end of the bar. The torches were burning down, leaving shadows in the corners.

I wasn't overly worried- the guards at the walls were sturdy, and it was summertime- and an unusually hot one. Even the Woads seemed to have given up on raids. No one could raise themselves to battle. Still, I kept my eyes on the shadows, wary.

Turning back to the bar, I shrieked with fright, dropping the cloth I'd been holding.

Tristan leant on the other side of it, a mug and rag in his hand. He laughed, before wiping out the receptacle and placing it on a shelf. I noticed then that the shelf had several more mugs on it than it had before- evidently, he'd been there a while.

'That isn't funny, Tristan,' I said shortly, trying to sound stern.

'You keep your eyes to the shadows so that you forget about the light,' he replied, not unkindly. I picked up the cloth and threw it at him with a sour look. He caught it one handed, dumping it into the sink behind him.

'I haven't seen you for a few days,' I called over my shoulder as I righted a toppled bench. 'You been up to something, scout?'

'Training, wench.' I ignored the slur, knowing he meant no offence. 'You,' I laughed, turning to look at him with my hands on my hips, 'Training?'

He shrugged, walking around the bar to lean on the other side. He held two apples, and motioned for me to take one. Crossing the tavern, I picked it out of his hand, hopping up to sit on the bar. 'Gawain is showing me the axe,' he said after a moment.

'Whaa 'orr?' I mumbled around a mouthful of apple, swallowing guiltily after Tristan gave me a bemused look. 'Sorry. What for?'

'I want to learn something new,' he replied with another shrug. I leant forward to look at him. 'You want to learn something new?' I repeated seriously, apple dangling forgotten in my hand. 'You've never had an objection to your sword and bow before. Why now?'

'You ask too many questions,' Tristan growled, pushing himself away from the bar. I caught his shoulder, turning him until he faced me directly, his waist inches away from my legs, which dangled from the bar. 'You went against someone with an axe and nearly lost,' I guessed, eyes narrowed. He glared back at me, then leant forward, hands on either side of my legs. I leant back, raising an eyebrow. I was never frightened of the scout- I figured that if he didn't like me, he wouldn't seek me out or talk to me at all.

'You won't tell Dagonet?' he said after a moment. I shook my head, placing the half eaten apple on the bar beside me. He took a step back, hands going to the collar of his jerkin as his fingers nimbly unpicked the fastenings. I followed his hands, watching with curious eyes as a small slice was revealed on his breastbone. It was barely a scratch, already healing. 'I wouldn't tell Dagonet about that,' I remarked, gently shifting him out of the way with one hand as I jumped down, grabbing a broom from it's resting place against a table.

'He worries. He'd panic about infection- ever since Lancelot got sick from that splinter in his leg after Vindolanda.' Tristan said behind me. I made a noise of agreement. I'd had a cough last month and Dagonet- who I trusted far more than the fort's healer Brutus- made me swallow all kinds of odd concoctions. I'd suspected that the cough would go away on its own, but the knight wouldn't hear of it. I smiled to myself, shaking my head as I remembered his insistent face as he held out a steaming goblet of something sweet and sticky.

'So you're learning the axe,' I said, turning to look at him again, leaning on the broom. Tristan was lacing up his tunic, a small, sardonic smile on his face. 'You look feral when you do that,' I added with a snort. 'Well, be careful.'

'As always.' He tilted his head to one side, looking behind me. 'Sunrise. Go to bed, Lena.'

'In a while- I'm almost done here.' He walked the table between us and plucked the broom from my hand. 'You're done here,' he said softly. 'Its clean- cleaner than usual.'

I looked around and realised he was right. I shrugged with a rueful smile. 'I do that, sometimes. Clean and clean.' He gave me a gentle push with one hand, motioning for me to leave.

'Good night, Lena.'

'Night, Tristan,' I replied. He'd gone before I'd finished turning, but I surveyed that tavern. It was cleaner than clean. I grinned, turned, and set off for my rooms, humming to myself once more.


End file.
